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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



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UNITED STATES OF ABIERICA. 






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Copyright Applied For. 




PAGE 20. 






PREFACE 



>* 



To My Friends : 

I venture to give forth these poems in all their crude- 
ness and I ask you to overlook the defects that exist in 
rhythm and metre ; and, if you find anything readable, to 
remember the thought that prompted the utterings. I 
have never, in a single instance, attempted to make a cor- 
rection or add a word, but have written the thoughts down 
just as they came into my mind ; therefore, I ask your for- 
bearance, and, should you find anything commendable 
herein, I shall be glad and feel that my work has not 
been an entire failure. 



CLARA L. BELL. 



hil^x 



Farriiigtoii Printing Cu., .'.:'. Beacli St., Boston, 



^A^\ 



CONTENTS. 



A Christmas Story (Recitation) page 14-15 

A Lesson ON THE Motto F., Iv.& T " 18 

A Dream " 5 

A Wish " 24 

A Prayer " 11 

Asking HeivP " 15 

After Many Years '• " 8 

Christmas " 26 

Cosmos " 6 

DuKiE Boy " 9 

Easter - " 16 

Fate " 6 

Forbodings " 11-12 

In MT. WOI.LASTON Cemetary " 28 

In Dreams " 25 

IvAURANCE " 19 

LukeXV-6. John III-3 " 24 

My Dear, Dead Love " 13-14 

Nativity " 15 

Not a Sparrow Faeleth " 22-24 

Old Hundred (Recitation) " 21-22 

Old UnceE BiEE (Song) " 16 

Pictures from the Blue Hills " 20 

Rainy Day in the Attic '* 18 

Repentance " 19 

Severed " 17 

Sometime, Some Day " 5-6 

Signs of Spring " 13 

To " 19 

To the Same " 20 

To Baby " 10 

The Mother's Thoughts (In the Gloaming) " 7-8 

The Evening Bell " 12 

Thoughts at Dusk " 11 

The Katy-Did " 26-27 



A DREAM. 

I dreamed of a beautiful niausiou, 
Halls paved with marble so cold ! 

Rare statues aud tapestries, pictures 
And books bound in vellum and gold ! 

Outside, there were beautiful gardens 
Filled with plants so lovely and rare. 

Their exotic perfume all filling 

With fragrance, the rooms and the air. 

On a couch in a corner reclining 

(In a room, the hangings light blue), 

As I gazed I saw there, my lover, 
My darling so fond and so true ! 

But so different— the look on his face ! 

And he looked so white and so cold 
That a feeling of horror stole o'er me. 

And of sorrow and doubt all untold. 

I aw'Oke ! but the memory lingers 
Of the clasp of a cold, white hand. 

The beauty and perfume of flowers, 
Aud a doubt I cannot understand. 

And I fear that some ill has befallen 

Him in that far-away laud, 
And that that is the cause of my fears 
And of the doubt, I cannot understand. 



SOMETIME, SOME DAY. 

(Written in 1S79.; 

Somewhere, somewhere, is a fair Heavenly land ; 
When one of us be called to join the Angel band 

Will I or you be first, my dear ? 

Or you or I left on this earth so drear? 
Sometime, the day will dawn when heart shall swell 
With thoughts hard to express, 'twere vain to tell. 

In that sad time so dark, so dark and drear. 

Will it be you or I, my dear ? 



Sometime, the sweet love words that now we say 
Will be a memory ne'er to fade away. 

A day shall come when one can never speak, 

And to the other life be all forlorn and bleak, 
In that sad time so dark, so dark and drear, 
Will it be you or I, my dear? 
Sometime, some day, and one will stand with all 

abated breath. 
Watch the last sleep and say : "and is this death ? ' 

In that sad time so dark, so dark and drear. 

Will it be you or I, my dear? 

darling ! you, my more than very life, 

1 think that even death itself be sweet, 
That I would gladly go alone to that "Fair land," 
If, when I "fall asleep," you only hold my hand. 



FATE. 



I wandered by the river brink, 

I met a maiden fair and sweet ; 
I sat me on the bank to think, 

Then, I thought, I would her greet : 
I spoke ! said I : "O maiden fair, 

Whence comest thou, O maid most dear? " 
She pushed aside her wavy hair. 

Quoth she : "I come when none are near.' 
Said I : "O tell me lovely mate 

Thy name, I do not know it yet." 
Then found I had been courting Fate, 

When her answer came — it was "Kismet. 



COSMOS. 

In the springtime sweet, when 

Nature all was fair, 
I tarried with my darling. 

She had violets in her hair ; 
Blossoms all so fair and sweet. 

Their perfume o'er me stealing 
Sent thrills of love all thro' my hearty 

O ! rapt'rous thoughts revealing ! 

When at last the summer came. 

And with it the wild rose, 
We walked again together, 

The day was at its close ; 
In her hair the roses nestled 

As she lingered by my side, 
I said : "wear these, my dear one, 

On the day that you're my bride." 

G 



And she answered : "when October 
Conies, with leaves of Autumn rare, 

There blooms a flower, the Cosmos, 
I wait to wear those blossoms fair." 

It is ' 'autumn : " — in my garden 

Is a plant whose radiance gleams 
Like a sweet white face that cometh 

Only to me in my dreams ; 
And I pluck the Cosmos flower 

Autumn winds did kindly save. 
Rut I place the pretty blossoms 

On a lonely, new-made grave ! 



THE MOTHER'S THOUGHTvS. 
In the Gloaming. 

When the day is slowly fading 

And the sun is sinking low, 
Rose-tints o'er the hills a-shadiug, 

'Tis then I love to go 
And sit in the open doorway. 

Where, gazing down the street, 
I can see the people come and go 

And hear their hurrying feet. 
In my mind I see a maiden, 

Lovely as the dawn of day. 
Brow so fair, eyes like blue pansies, 

Merr}^ charming, winsome, Ray ! 
Since she left us, nineteen summers 

Have we spent in the old home. 
"Dead? " you ask : "No, only married. 

And to a distant country gone." 
There comes before me now the dear face 

Of a boy, a lissom youth ; 
Faults he had some — ^good qualities, many, 

And he always spoke the truth. 
Alas! the tempter came and won him 

To his side — my bonny boy — 
And he fell — his truth condemned hiui, 

But in Heaven for him there's joy. 
I see a form beside me. 

I hear a voice so low 
I scarce can hear it, my little 

Blind girl is with me now. 
Strange, that of all the gay throng 

She was the chosen one — 
My little Ruth— to bear the burden 

So heavily laid upon ! 
In the quiet summer gloaming 

The thought comes of the one 
Who always "did the chores" for me 

When his daily work was done ; 



i 
He recked not of the sneeriugs 

Thrown at him by his mates, 
My noble l)oy, he standeth now 

By "Heaven's pearly gates ! " 
Yes, two have gone to Heaven, 

My boys so tall and strong. 
My delicate girls are left here 

To battle with earth's wrong. 
Strange course of eventful nature, 

That takes the strong and leaves the weak 
To close my slumbering eyelids 

And smooth my withered cheek. 
Night after night I listen 

For the step I know so well, 
Hoping as the moments go 

No harm has the one befell 
Who for so many long years 

Has jogged along with me 
Over life's road so rugged, 

But by him made smooth to be. 
The twilight is swiftly fading 

And the stars begin to peep. 
But still I linger in the doorway 

And my lonely vigil keep. 
My child (the one that is left me 

Of all the others here at home). 
Now tells me "the dew is falling 

And father home has come." 
So I leave my place in the doorway 

And quickly go within 
To receive the kiss that awaits me, 

What matter iny cheek is thin ? 
Although ni}' sight is fainter 

And my hair is most all graj^ 
That love is still as fresh to us 

As on my bridal day ! 



AFTER MANY YEARS. 
Song to J. M. 

Since last we met 

Many years have passed away, 

And we meet now as lovers no more ; 

But we never will forget 

Those bright days that have passed. 

Nor the many good old times we had of yore. 

We have both met and loved 

Other dear ones since then, 

Thro' other paths do we rove. 
But we never will forget 

The bright times that have been 

Or the moonlight in the old pine grove. 



Your form now is bent 

And your hair is tinged with grey, 

And there's furrows on j^oiir once smooth brow, 

But 3'Our eyes still are bright 

And your voice still is sweet , 

As when you pledged to nie that solemn vow. 

Old mem'ries stir our hearts, 

Old songs recall the scenes 

That we both would fain forget, 
But when we think of the present 

And the ones that we have chosen. 

We find there is nothing to regret. 



DUKIE BOY. 

(Died Aug. It, iSSg.) 

He was only a horse ! 

Just a horse, you know. 
But always faithful 

And ready to go 
Through all Aveathers, 

Cold or warm. 
He carried his master 

And through many a storm. 

Only a horse ! 

It seems so qxieer 
Perhaps to you 

That I shed a tear ; 
But I do, 

I cannot help it, 
We miss him so ! 

Only a horse ! 

Good faithful friend, 
No one over 

Your grave will bend ; 
Quietly you rest 

In the wood, alone. 
Naught marks the spot. 

Not even a stone. 

But we'll not forget you, 

Good, tried Duke, 
What care I, if 

They do rebuke, 
And say : why cry 

For a horse? 
Does nobody care? 



9 



Yes, there's one other 
Who misses you, too, 

The master you carried 
So long, faithful one, 

Who mourns you 
Now, but your 

Work is done. 

There's an empty stall 

In the barn today. 
There's a sorrowing heart, 

Is it always the way 
That what we love 

Most, is taken? 
1 
Good-bye, Dukie Boy ! 

You are "only a horse," 
And they say : "be thankful 

It is no worse ; " 
And we are, but 

We miss you all the same. 
With a sorrow, Duke, 

We cannot name. 
And so I'll be quiet 

And mourn alone, 
But it seems as if 

A friend were gone ! 



TO BABY. (Who died.) 

Thou wert too frail a thing 

Earth's woes to brave, 
And the soul returned 

To the God who gave. 
Like some sweet flower 

We watched the bud unfold, 
Only to droop and fade 

Away, touched by the cold. 

Sleep, softly sleep ! 

Life's journey o'er, 
Safe with the angels 

Thou art evermore. 
Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Out from the night 
So dark you went 

To the Eternal light. 
Farewell, sweet babe. 

Our loss, thy gain. 
For earth's paths but pave 

The way Heaven's 
Perfection to attain. 

Safe from all pain, 
On the Saviour's breast, 

"Free" from all care, 
Rest, sweetly rest! 



10 



THOUGHTS AT DUSK. 

It is just in the dusk of the twilight, 

Just at the ending of day, 
That quiet time called the gloaming, 

Our tired minds and thoughts stray 
Far from life's cares and its shadows, 

As our burdens seem fading from sight ; 
For we know that another day conieth, 

A day when all shall see light. 
Yet the day seems long in coming, 

As the clouds still darker grow, 
How shall we hear the message ? 

How "see" and the real truth know? 
Wishing, hoping, longing, 

Waiting for the day 
When the angel shall come from Heaven 

To bear my soul away ; 
But I know that each day later 

Is one day nearer the Goal, 
I shall find There the rest I seek, 

Peace for the weary soul. 



A PRAYER. 

I am alone. 

And yet, I know 

That God is nigh ; 

O! send Thy blessing 

Down, Most Holy, 

From on High ! 

When troubles come 

We say of prayer : 

"Of what avail? " 

Yet Thou art near 

When woes assail. 

Oh, teach the way O Lord ! 

This stubborn heart subdue, 

Show me Thy grace, O Lord 

Teach me anew ; 

I grope so blindly. Lord, 

Yet long for Thee, 

So often hear Thee .saj- : 

"Come unto Me ! " 



FORBODINGS. 

"There was no music but his voice to hear. 
No joy but such as with his step draws near ; 

Light was but where he looked, life where he moved: 
Silentlv, fervently, thus, thus I loved." 

— Hevians. 

11 



A day will come, all so dreary, 

When you will be left all alone, 
You will weep and your heart will be weary 

When you realize that I am gone — 
"Gone" from your sight, "gone" for'er love, 

Far from this world's earthly care; 
Out of the darkness to light, love. 

From troubles you could not share. 

You will think of the words I have spoken. 

Of the love I can never more prove. 
You will think of a face up in Heaven 

Watching o'er 3'ou from Above ; 
And the world will go on just the same, love, 

And the sun just as brightly will shine. 
Other lips will press yours in parting. 

Other hands will clasp yours — not mine ! 

The days will be plenteous with l)rightuess. 

Other friends 3'our laurels will share. 
They'll know naught of the heart-rending sorrow, 

Or the burden of woe that you bear. 
And I know that you'll miss me, my darling ! 

And long for the days of the past. 
Days fraught with sunshine and gladness, 

Happy days all too bright to last. 

But— 
There's a land where earth's cares and its shadows 

Fade away in the beautiful skies, 
Yes, in realms up Above, O my dear one ! 

'Tis there true love never dies ! 



THE EVENING BELL. 

Now upon my senses softly stealing. 
Comes the sound of evening's Vesper bell, 

Sending mem'ries thro' my heart resounding, 
Telling me of times remembered well. 

Bringing recollections dear and tender 
Of a dream that's long since passed away. 

Recollections that I'll long remember, 

Oft' to them my willing thoughts will stray. 

In my mind bright pictures I can see, 

Neither time nor ages can efface, 
Just as cadence of some sweet song lingers 

Until the singer has long since left his place. 

12 



SIGNvS OF SPRING. 

•Come, listen to the robin 

As he gaily swings to and fro 
On a bough of the old gray poplar, 

Singing merrily, now high, now low. 
vSee how the sweet little jonquils, 

Just lifting their heads from the ground, 
Having been asleep all the winter, 

Are now timidly gazing around, 
Saying:, "we're fearful still, that old winter 

May not be all gone yet. 
And if we're not very careful 

A nipping we'll be sure to get." 
The birds and the flowers and the children 

With joy hail the coming of spring. 
For the trees their embryo verdure 

Soon forth to the light will bring 



MY DEAR, DEAD LOVE. 

dearest, sweetest, best ! 
My own first love ! 

Look down with tender 

Pitying eyes from up Above ! 

1 am so tired with this 
Weary, endless strife, 

The days and davs of toil 

Of this— called life ! 
This life — a living death, 

With agony in every breath, 
Stretch out thy hand and touch me, 

You from that far land ! 

I stretch my a^^ms about me 

But they empty fall. 
Darkness is all around 

Me. like a pall! ' 

Send me some word. 

Some message, O my love. 
One little message 

Only from AVjove ! 
I speak, you answer not, 

vSo far away ! 
I call, 3'ou cannot hear 

One word I say. 
The only time you ever 

Turned unwilling ear ; 
The only time I ever called 

You would not hear ! 

Yes ; I am weary, darling 

With the strife, 
And long so much to hear you say : 

"My love, my life, my wife! " 

13 



Oh ! tell me, will you meet 

Me soon, my own? 
Thine be the hand to guide 

Me when I come — 
Am called to meet you 

In (once more) our "home " ? 
O call me soon, O come 

And take me "home" to rest, 
My own true love, 

O sweetest, dearest, best ! 



A CHRISTMAS STORY. 
Recitation. 

Somehow, it does'nt seem 

Ivike Christnaas this year, wife: 

I suppose it is because we miss 

So much the little life 

Entrusted to our care ; 

Ah me ! Was ever gem 

More dearly prized, more rare? 

She went away : now let me see, 

'Tis ten long years today 

Since death's cold hand 

Broke our home band, 

Took Marjorie away. 

Do you remember, wife, the year 

She searched the woods all over 

For evergreen and holly bright, 

Our homely walls to cover? 

She draped the walls and pictures, too 

With mistletoe and pine 

In memory of Him who was born 

Among the lowly kine. 

* * * * 

We're sitting here alone, dear wife. 
Our boy has gone away ; 
We never thought 
Our cherished son 
Would ever go astray. 
Somehow, I never thought 
How it could be that our Joe 
Would forge a check. 
Would cause us such 
Deep and bitter sorrow. 
Ah well ! Mayhap that some day 
The clouds will a silver lining show. 
And in the bright hereafter 
We shall the real truth know. 
Hark! Wife, I think I hear a step 
And 'tis a step we know ! 
O can it be — it surely is — 
It really is our Joe ! 

U 



A lady with him (stranger, too), 

Also a little child 

With golden hair 

(As Marjorie's was ) 

With eyes as blue and mild ! 

"I never, father, would come back 

Until I knew — was sure— 

That you knew, as I knew, 

That I was ever pure. 

The thief, in dying, confessed his guilt 

And cleared for aye my name. 

Thank God no guilt has ever tarnished 

Or shall mar our fair name ; 

And she, who, in my time of need. 

Stood ever by my side, 

I bring to you, my wife, 

And little Marjorie, our pride! " 



How happy the old home 
On the eve of Christmas day. 
All trouble now is o'er, 
The clouds have rolled away ; 
The firelight throws its shadows 
On a happy group I "ken" 
As the Christmas bells are chiming 
"On earth, peace, good will towards 
men." 



ASKING HELP. 

Each night I search my Bible some 

goodly text to see. 
Help me the lessons found there, to 

try and profit me. 
Help me the teachings found there 

wherever I niav seek. 
May make me be Thy child, oljedieut, 

loving, meek ! 



NATIVITY. 

God said : "Let there be light ! ' 

Forthwith was born the day. 
And nature smiled, was born. 

And nothingness swept away. 
From matters' deep, dark place 

Shone forth a brightening ray 
Out of the blackened space 

Shone forth the light of day ! 

1.') 



I thiuk the soul exists 
Before the body is born ; 

Just so sure the soul lives ou 
After the body is gone. 



EASTER. 

There is no "death ! " 

We only fall asleep 

In this cold world 

Of trouble and of care, 

And when we waken, 

Find ourselves transplanted 

To that bright "home" 

Of love and treasure rare. 



OLD UNCLE BILL. 
Song. 

Down in the South 

Stands the cabin lone and still, 
No more we'll hear the voice 

Of old Uncle Bill, 
Hanging on the wall 

Is his old hoe and spade 
Last used by him 

When the tater-hill he made. 

Chorus. 
Yes, the darkies gathered round 
As they heard the welcome sound. 
And many was the good 
Old dance they had, 
But the}- won't dance any more 
And their hearts with grief are sore, 
And the songs they sing now are sad. 

Far away upon the hill 

They have laid old Uncle Bill 
In his grave, with trembling hands 

They placed his bow. 
And the tears roll down the cheeks 

Of the lonely dusky band 
As they pass by the home 

He used to know. — Cho. 

Old Uncle Bill 

We never can forget. 
The echo of his songs 

Ring in the cabin yet; 
Often at eve, 

When the sun was sinking low. 
They'd meet to hear the music 

Drawn forth from his old bow. 

—Cho. 



16 



SEVERED. 

<To my friend in a far-away land.) 

Living and loving 

Yet ever apart, 
God alone knowetli 

The anguish of heart, 
Living and loving 

And the weary day 
Passes to nothingness, 

Slowly away ! 

Living and loving 

Always just the same, 
Nothing to look to 

Save love that is 
Only a name ; 

Each striving the battle 
Of life to win. 

For triumph o'er self, 
For victory o'er sin. 

Living and loving, 

And your home not mine. 
Yet our thoughts mingle 

And intertwine, 
And the merest thought 

And the faintest word 
From you to me, love, 

Is understood. 

How will it be 

On that "other shore" 
When life on this earth 

Knows us no more ? 
Is it true that each 

To the other will be 
The same? If this 

Be true, then let me live, 
F'or I know, that living, 

I shall meet you again, 
And the thought assuages 

A little of pain. 

Living and loving 

I shall feel you near. 
Hear you whisper once more : 

"I love 3?ou only, dear." 
What does it matter 

We cannot say 
The words in our hearts 

That come from day to day ? 

The merest thought. 
And the faintest word 

Prom me to yon, love, 
Is understood. 



i: 



RAINY DAY IN THE ATTIC. 

Looking o'er little notes tattered and torn, 

Looking o'er school-books all dog-eared and worn. 

Seeking for treasures in great hope of gain, 

This is my pastime in dark days of rain. 

Here a sweet note from a lover I find, 

All the words in it but serve to remind 

The days of the past — those bright days at school, 

Where we studied or labored by pretext or rule. 

"Dear Girlie, you are the one love of my life, 

And some day, I am sure, you will be my wife : " 

O Johnnie, you long ago took home a bride 

And I'm not the one who stands now by your side. 

No children the union of these two do bless, 

Still, the couple are happy, I'm bound to confess. 

Another dear note signed "yours, from a brother," 

Another John married and gone like the other. 

A packet of letters, one year's, how it shows 

Original alphabet studied — Charles knows ! 

O Charlie, our secrets will never be told, 

For the alphabet's all forgot, now we're grown old ! 

A package of letters, I find here "from Fred," 

How well I remember the sad tears he shed 

On Thanksgiving Day of a time long ago, 

He wended his way thro' the woods to and fro 

With Willie for company, but he was "too late," 

And found I had gone with another mate. 

Full well I remember with "frank" eyes of blue 

(The color the symbol of all that is true). 

Another, my "sailor-boy," who left friends and home 

Among the bright Azores forever to roam. 

O sad disappointments ! So long ago spent, 

When mole-hills seemed mountains, our young 

minds intent 
On fun and on pleasure and never a care, 
O memories tender, so tender and rare ! 
Those days of our childhood, sweet days of the past ! 
They ne'er can return — too pleasant to last! 



A LESSON ON THE MOTTO 
F., L. & T. 

Let us strive to aid each other 

In this world of care, 
Gentle words too seldom reach us. 

Faithful friends are rare : 

Come we to the "thorny pathway" 

In our road of life. 
Let us push aside the briars. 

Even thoueh with strife 



IS 



That the ones who conieth next 

May have an easier way ; 
We can shed along the wayside 

Many a sunny ray 

That, reflecting on the minds 

Of the passers-by 
May perhaps a lesson give 

To others far or nigh. 

So, should all good circulate 
Through this world so wide. 

The world, a field so large to work in, 
Has ill on every side. 

And if one sets an example 

And others by it gain, 
He will have the satisfaction, 

His work was not done in vain. 



LAURANCE. 

A babv face, so young and tender, fair, 
Bold laughing eyes of blue, light wavy 
hair ! 



REPENTANCE. 

Months have passed since last I saw thee 
But in my heart there lingers yet 

The mem'ry of those happy times, 
That I never can forget. 

Dost thou not recall the promises, 
The vows that then were spoken, 

The parting kiss, the tender words 
Said ere my heart was broken ? 

I know it is my fault alone 
That our paths diverge today. 

That I am waiting now for you 
Those sweet words again to say. 

And would I turn from you this time? 

No! If thou could'st'but forgive 
I'd show thee how I'd love thee 

To the longest day I'd live ! 



TO- 



O eyes so blue and tender, sweet, 
Look once more into mine. 

That in their depths thy thoughts I 
may'st read 
And see the love-light shine. 



V.) 



TO THE SAME. 

Could I but see you just once more 

And place my hands in thine, 

And hear you say, as oft' you've said, 

Your love was wholly mine, 

I think I'd be content to keep, 

And end my days in lonely sleep. 



PICTURES FROM THE 
BLUE HILLS. 

Fair Blue hills: 

My heart with rapture thrills 

When e'er I gaze upon thee ! 

May never woodman's axe 

Profane thy sacred trees 

Born on thy land, the first the 

*\Veary mariner sees ! 

On one side the winding river. 

Quite near by are Milton's Mills, 

While the houses dotted in between 

A beauteous landscape fills. 

An old 1 schoolhouse, its ancient walls 

Where many a name is seen. 

Reminding how, in da3's gone by, 

Many pupils there had been : 

Here, too, stands a sweet-briar bush 

In summer with roses crowned, 

Its blossoms, pleasing to the eye, 

Shed a sweet perfume around. 

1 see some verdant pastures 
And farms with products rank, 

A stone-arched bridge, a fountain, 

And meadows green and dank. 

But now the night is falling, 

I see thee as in a maze, 

A star in the azure sky 

Grows brighter as I gaze. 

I hear in the evening twilight 

Sweet chimes of a distant bell, )[ 

And I leave thee, O Hills ! in thy 

grandeur, 
To others thy story to tell. 

* Fact. 

II Milton High (old). 

)[ Hyde Park Chimes. 

20 



OLD HUNDRED. 
Recitation. 



(Dedicated to Miss Nellie Bean, Elocutionist, and recited 
by her at Meredith, N. H., in 1889.) 

What ! Never heard tell of Old Plundred ? 

My, whar' hev you been all your days? 

Thought everyone knew of Old Hundred 

And would give him a word of praise ! 

Why, he's one of the old coach-horses 

That ply 'tween the "Harbor" and Ossipee, 

A faithful old beast, too, as ever you'd wish to see. 

'Twas in the year eighteen and seventy-six 

That a mighty tough blizzard came over, 

And lucky it was for everj'thing 

That was in and under cover. 

The coach started off on wheels that morn' 

(For there wa'nt no sign then of snow) 

But along towards arternoon 

It commenced to drift and blow. 

'Twan't long before it kivered the roadway. 

And soon it got high as the wall, 

And the trees were heavily-laden, 

Alike the short and the tall. 

I says to myself as I was sitting here : 

"I guess I know what I'd better do : " 

"Go get a neighbor and horse and go 

Meet the coach and help her through." 

So, I went out into the barn 

And up to Old Hundred's stall — 

Well sir, you could have knocked 

Me down with a feather for, 

There stood there no horse at all ! 

There wa'nt no sign as I could see 

Of his having gone down through the floor. 

And so it must have been that 

He went out through the door. 

But no one saw him go. 

There was the mystery, 

And the question now arose, 

Where in the world is he ? 

Well, we took another horse 

And an extra harness along 

(In case, with the hard pulling. 

Part of theirs might go wrong), 

And then we started off, neighbor Brown and I. 

Well, I guess we tipped out twenty times 

Afore we came to "Squam," 

But men don't mind a "tipple" much 

And the excitement kept us warm. 

Putty soon we sighted the coach. 

And a time she was having, too, 

Tell you what, 'twas about all 

She could do to pull through ! 

21 



Aud then I saw a sight — I never was 

So astonished in all my life — 

Would 'nt have been more so to have 

Seen there my own wife. 

There stood good Old Hundred ! 

As firm and staunch as the tune ! 

And I guess, by the appearance of things, 

That he'd got there none too soon. 

Well, we put the extra harness on him, 

And hitched on my horse, too. 

But 'twas then 'bout as much as we could do. 

(I left my sleigh 

At a farmhouse over the way. 

To go after the next day). 

Well, we pulled into town about midnight 

And tired and hungry were we 

As we sat down to the "Sandwich House" supper 

And the steaming cup of tea. 

And the way the hot cakes disappeared 

Adown our throats like the wind. 

And when we got up from the table 

Not a crumb on it could yot find. 

"Old Hundred living now? " you ask? 

O, yes ! But he's old and lazy now, 

Don't work him much, only 

In the hay field, and once in a while 

To the plough. 

O, it won't be long, I don't suppose, 

Before he'll go where all good horses do. 

And I suppose about that time 

This old fellow will be 

Passing in his checks, too ! 



NOT A SPARROW FALLETH. 
(On seeing a picture "Falsely Accused." 

O, World so pitiless, cold. 

So pregnant with trials and care. 

What care vou 

I fall ? 

'Tis one onlv 

Of all 

Your animadversions 

To share. 

Weary and worn with the 

Striving. 

O so\il, like some vessel tost 

About on the raging billows 

Ere it goes down and 

Is lost. 

Oh, the pain and the anguish ! 

Oh, the longings, the strife ! 

Struggles all vain 

22 



The attempt to attain 

The hope of eternal life ! 

I once had a happy home, 

I once was a happy child, 

Friends, kindred and home, 

And never a word but 

What was gentle and mild. 

But they all have been taken away, 

And still the God that we trust 

Has left me alone — says I must learn 

To say — to say and to know He is just ! 

Is sorrow my punishment here 

For sin I have never done? 

Must lonliness, sadness and pain 

Be the burden I ever must bear 

Since friends are all gone 

And there's no one to know, 

Nobody by me to care ? 

Should I now lead a life for self. 

Since in this world I must live. 

And then at the last. 

When the "last" moment comes, 

O Father ! Would'st Thou forgive ? 

Show me the marvellous truth 

That now is hidden from me. 

Show me the light — a glimmer 

Only, that I may "see," 

Give me some semblance, some promise. 

Some hope for the future years, 

Some little faint light, only 

To pay for the bitter tears — 

The bitter tears and the efforts 

Of long and weary years ? 

Living for years in a cold world, 

Pitiless, censuring, without love. 

Giving up all in hope to attain 

A reward in the world Above. 

Tired at last with the struggle 

We la}- our bodies down, 

Knowing the soul shall live. 

Sometime we shall wear the crown. 

O Thou who the crown of thorns 

Did wear in that far-away land, 

O Thou of the tender heart. 

Thou only, canst understand. 

Forget not Thy tired child. 

Look into this erring heart ! 

Let Thine be the hand to guide 

When with this world I part ! 

It is well worth the struggle to know 

(Thou of all praise and reward the giver) 

If only a moment the light shines at last. 

In crossing o'er the dark river, 

O hasten the moment I pray. 

Take all earthl)' feelings away, 

23 



I am longing for "Home, 

For Heaven and rest, 

O soon to thy child 

Say 

"Come Home ! " 



LUKE XV— 6. JOHN III— ;^. 
(May 26, 1880.) 

Iveave me alone in my sorrow. 

Anywhere out of sight ; 
Leave me alone now to suffer 

And wrestle with all my might ! 
Anywhere out in the darkness. 

Anywhere, only aloue, 
Leave me alone in the darkness. 

My resting place the earth or a stone ! 
I'll wander 'til strength is exhausted 

Anywhere out of sight. 
Anywhere out in the darkness. 

Darkness blacker than night. 
Now, come down from heaven, good 
angel. 

Spread forth thy pure wings over me^ 
And save if you can this wearied soul, 

Lost — near to eternity ! 
I choose in the wood a lone place 

And think no one can find me here, 
But out of the depths I see a face, 

And I feel a sweet Presence all near. 
Do I sleep ? Else what is this vision — 

These rays of light that I see, 
This "peace" and this "restful" feeling 

That conies stealing so softly o'er me ? 
And the feeling I had I was sinking, 

Seems changed, and I'm lifted away, 
And the darkness is changed into light,. 

And the light is bright as the day ! 
'Tis only one other 

The story is told. 
Another "lamb gathered 

Into the fold." 



A WISH. 

When the sweet spring-time comes. 

And violets bloom 
Lay me at rest, 

Place my fav'rite flowers 
Only, on my breast. 

My aching heart beneath 
At last so still, 

24 



My weary heart, O' God, 
Bowed to thy will. 

■O why does the heart break ? 

At last the tired brain 
Gives way beneath the all 

The tiring strain: 
So when the flowers bloom, and 

All seems full of life 
Lay me at "rest" for I 

Am weary of the strife. 

And in the spring-time sweet, 
When all nature seemeth glad, 

Ivay me at "rest" for I 
Of all, am sad. 

^Zr ^uf ' ™^' ^opes. my ev'ry thought 
No blossoming promise gives, 

Ivay me at rest, O let me die 
When all else lives ! 

Father in Heaven 

So kind to one and all, 
That heedeth even when 

The sparrows fall, 
O take me "home;" I know 

No love but thee, 
My hope of rest is 

Only Heaven 
Blessed Eternity. 



IN DREAMS. 

Thinking of you my darling 

All through the weary day 
And the thought of you, my darliuo- 

Is wearing my life away. '^ 

O for the days that are past, dear, 

Days from all sorrow free. 
The words that you said to me then, dear 

Were as a low, sweet song to me. 

The purple shadows are deep'ning 

Over the distant hill. 
And the thought of you, my dear one 

Leaves in my heart a long, sad thrill. 
You are here beside me my darling 

Holding me fast by the hand. 

Together at last ! Mv darling. 

In this far distant land ! 
Away from all sorrow and care, dear 

Was there ever a land like this 
Unknown before, so real now. 

Ah, I never e'en dreamed of such bliss! 

25 



The crimson shadows are breaking 

Over the distant hill, 
I awaken! The dream is over, 

And the low, low, small voice is still. 
And you're no longer by my side, dear, 

Alas! I am alone again, 
Back once more to the old life 

In all its realistic pain. 



CHRISTMAS. 
'Tis Christmas eve 

All nature sleeps 
'Neath Heaven's star-lit sk)': 

Bright little heads 
In downy beds, 

To sleep, now vainly try: 
Visions of day 

Drive sleep away. 
No thought of sorrow 

On the morrow; 
Their little hearts will try. 

With thoughts intent 
On Santa bent 

Beneath his load of toys, 
Ah me! What lots of joys 

In store for yoii 
My little girls and boys! 

'Tis Christmas day! 

They gather now 
Beneath the Christmas tree. 

With anxious brow 
All eager now 

Their presents for to see. 
With joyous sound 

They cluster round. 
Their voices loud and gay. 

And wait impatiently to hear 
What Santa has to say. 

Dear children! 

May your youthful life 
Be always free 

From care and strife. 
May Christmas joys 

Be always thine. 
No darkening clouds, 

But all sunshine. 



THE KATY-DID. 
Patsey and Katy 

One calm summer night 
Went out for a walk 

And the stars shone bright, 
Yes the evening was still 

2(; 



And all down the road 
"Not a creature was stirring 

Not even a" ^oad. 
So gay and happy 

Were Patsey and Kate 
He said he "hoped 

Not a creature they'd mate." 
"For I've something quite private 

To say to ye, Kate." 
(Katy-did, Katy-did. ) 
He said "I was hearing 

That on one foine day 
You rode with O'Neil 

Down the old high-way." 
Said Katy "I never 

You're wrong thus to say, 
I have'nt seen Michael 

This many a day." 
Then out on the night air 

In tones harsh and unbid 
Cried out a voice saying 

"She did, Katy-did." 
"O, What's that!" Cried Patrick 

"Shure faith, I ne'er heard 
So saucy a fellow 

No, it must be a bird ! " 
"A bird," then quoth Katy : 

*'Now listen, now hark, 
For I never heard birds 

That would sing after dark." 
"And faith, (said the maiden) 

I'll never more walk 
By night in a country 

Where birds can talk. 
She did, Katj'-did. 
And the poor Celtic maiden 

Then burst into tears 
And her face (on Pat's shoulder) 

A doleful look wears. 
"Ah, never mind, Katy," 

Quoth Patrick in glee, 
"Be my bride and forget it 

And come home with me. 
We'll leave old America 

Birds, that so loudly snore. 
And will hie away 

To old Ireland's shore." 
Then be it recorded 

In annals of bliss. 
The quarrel was settled 

In one ling'ring kiss. 
And as onto Pat's shoulder 

Kate's bonny head slid 
A voice still betrays them, 

Sajing : "she did, Katy-did ! " 



IN MT. WOIvLASTON CEMETERY. 

One day while wand'ring 

Thro' the grave yard old, 
I came upon a marble stone 

All white and cold, 
Inscribed thereon were words 

I now in mem'ry clearly see 
"Until the day break and the 

Shadows flee." 

Next time I rode around 

The grave yard old, 
I saw a manly form 

So cold and still 
Placed in a narrow grave 

Upon the hill, 
For him the day had broke 

The "clouds had rolled away" 
And he had entered in 

Upon the glorious "light" of day, 
But I am waiting all impatiently 

"Until the day break and the 
Shadows flee." 




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